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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431621">Footsteps Of The One I Left Behind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva'>flipflop_diva</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, Blood and Injury, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, F/M, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Hurt/Comfort, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Protective Bucky Barnes, Rescue Missions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:55:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Natasha is on the run and injured, she gets a rescuer in a very unlikely person.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Het Swap Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Footsteps Of The One I Left Behind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/gifts">firelord65</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Natasha pressed herself back into the dark corner and concentrated on keeping silent and keeping standing. She could feel the blood seeping from her leg through the material of her uniform, and she knew she was going to have to wrap something around it soon. Her head ached from where someone had whacked her over the head, and she knew there were probably too many bruises to count in many other areas of her body too.</p><p>They had come out of nowhere — she had thought she was being careful but it had been four months since she had disappeared from the hospital in Germany to become a fugitive — and she was beginning to worry she was losing her edge. </p><p>She had been compromised. Not by a target, but by people she now considered her friends. By thoughts of super soldiers and men who could fly and a witch with her strands of red light. And by an ache in her heart that she still didn’t like. </p><p>She used to be able to survive for months on her own. Her past self would be embarrassed by how weak she had become, how needy.</p><p>She forced those thoughts from her mind. They weren’t going to help her now. She didn’t know who exactly had attacked her — there were a lot of possibilities these days — but she had thought she’d managed to subdue them all. But she must have missed one, and that one had found her.</p><p>Her fingers tightened around the knife that was clutched in her hand by her side. Her Widow’s bites were still working, even though she knew Tony could have disabled them if he had wanted to, but a paranoid part of her worried he or someone else were waiting for her to use them so they could track her.</p><p>Her pistols were safely in the waistband of her suit, within easy reach if needed, but the knife was good for a surprise attack, and then she could kill if warranted.</p><p>The footsteps were coming closer. She braced herself, against the pain that was coursing through her and for the inevitable attack. </p><p>A drum pounded in her head, and the room wavered just slightly. The fingers of her free hand scrabbled against the stone wall, struggling to help keep her upright. She clamped her lips together to keep from breathing too loudly.</p><p>More footsteps. Still closer. </p><p>“Natasha?”</p><p>A whisper in the dark. Natasha’s blood ran cold. She couldn’t tell who was calling for her, but whoever they were, they knew she was here.</p><p>She tried to press herself even further into the wall, willing her legs to keep standing.</p><p>“Natasha?” The same whisper again. And then, “It’s me. James … Bucky.”</p><p>Natasha felt like all the air in her lungs suddenly froze. Her head spun — from his words and the blood she was losing. She had been tracking all her friends since Germany, and the last whereabouts of one Bucky Barnes was Wakanda in a cryogenic chamber. How could he be here, finding her? </p><p>A horrible thought went through her mind. What if this wasn’t the Bucky who smiled at her and was kind to her? What if this was the other one?</p><p>Images flashed before her eyes, one after the other, even as she tried to focus on escaping.</p><p>
  <i>Hands around her neck, choking her.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A bullet through her side.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A dead look in his eyes as he threw her across the room while the other ten-year-olds pretended not to notice.</i>
</p><p>“Natasha?” He was still calling for her. “Steve sent me.”</p><p>Natasha shook her head to clear the memories, her fingers clenching harder around the knife. That didn’t make sense. Or did it? Steve had sent Bucky to Wakanda. But why wouldn’t Steve come himself ….?</p><p>She felt like she was struggling to think. Nothing was making sense. A noise left her mouth, completely by accident. Her entire body tensed.</p><p>Barely half a second later, footsteps appeared in front of her.</p><p>“Natasha!”</p><p>She looked up into warm blue eyes that were looking concerned and maybe a little scared, lifted the knife in her hand, and toppled forward into blackness.</p><p>--</p><p>She woke up to something soft beneath her and the feel of strong, warm hands wrapping something around her leg.</p><p>She must have made a noise because before she could even open her eyes, the same hands were over hers and he was talking to her.</p><p>“Natasha? It’s okay. You’re safe. Steve sent me. I promise.”</p><p>Natasha’s eyes cracked open. Bucky, or <i>Soldat</i>, as she had once known him long, long ago, was sitting by her side, but he wasn’t dressed in any sort of uniform like he had been in her memories. Instead he was in jeans and a dark long-sleeve shirt.</p><p>He leaned over to pick something up off the ground and then pressed whatever it was into her hand. </p><p>“Look,” he told her.</p><p>She lifted her hand and the object in front of her face, realizing it was her phone. She blinked at it as it came into focus, seeing a message waiting for her.</p><p>It was from Steve.</p><p>“Sent Bucky to get you. You can trust him. He’s all better. See you soon.”</p><p>There was a very out of focus selfie included with the text, of Steve and Sam grinning into the camera but Steve had somehow managed to cut off half of their heads. She smiled, despite herself, then put her phone down and looked over at Bucky.</p><p>“I promise I’m all better,” he said. He tapped his forehead with his index finger. “No more triggers.”</p><p>Natasha nodded. She was still finding it hard to think, but she wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss or because someone she had been thinking about a lot in the past few weeks was sitting beside her, his hand still on her leg.</p><p>“Why did he send you?” she finally managed to ask, indicating the phone and the text.</p><p>Realizing she believed him and his claims of being okay, Bucky grinned at her. “I wasn’t busy.”</p><p>“How did you know where I was?”</p><p>“You think you’re the only one who can stalk people?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>He grinned more. “Right,” he said. “I forgot. You haven’t met Shuri yet.”</p><p>“Who?” she said, but Bucky had lifted his hand off her and was gesturing at her leg. “We gotta get this patched up before we head out,” he said.</p><p>“I can do it.”</p><p>“I know you can,” Bucky told her, and this time there was no amusement in his eyes. “But so can I. And you don’t have to.”</p><p>She wanted to argue — she didn’t trust many people when it came to delicate stitches, let alone one with a metal arm, but her head still felt so heavy and her body still ached, and maybe it would be nice to just let someone else do it for once.</p><p>“Okay,” she found herself saying. “Do what you have to do.”</p><p>--</p><p>Bucky was a better medic than she expected. He was gentle, the way he touched her and cleaned her wounds and then stitched her up, and he was careful, making sure every thread was perfect and precise and that she was comfortable and not in too much pain.</p><p>When he was done, he found some rags and a couple bottles of water and washed away all the dirt and the blood and the grime. He also found them a mattress to curl up together on, his arms around her to protect her from the chill in the air.</p><p>“We might have to stay here a couple days,” he told her as he rubbed her back and massaged her neck. “We need to make sure you can walk on that leg before we try and get out of here.”</p><p>“Okay,” she said as she rested her head on his chest. She didn’t tell him she didn’t think she minded that at all.</p><p>Later, as she felt her eyes getting too heavy for her to keep open, she asked the question she had never gotten an answer to the first time.</p><p>“Why did Steve send you to get me?” she asked.</p><p>Bucky fingers were stroking through her hair now, and she felt herself being lulled to sleep despite her best intentions. But she didn’t miss his answer even as she surrendered to slumber.</p><p>“He didn’t,” Bucky told her softly. “I volunteered.”</p><p>Against his chest, Natasha smiled.</p>
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